


Time and time again

by ShaydyBusiness



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: A Very Gay mess, Confessions, I mean Logan thinks it's unrequited, Logic | Logan Sanders is a Mess, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, References to Hamlet, Romantic Angst, Romantic Epiphanies, Virgil is barely any better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaydyBusiness/pseuds/ShaydyBusiness
Summary: As though from a distant dream, a long-forgotten yet familiar quote drifts into his mind.Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But-"-never doubt that I love," Logan whispers.AKA The One In Which Virgil is insecure, Logan realizes that he's in love, and they're both gay idiots.
Relationships: Analogical - Relationship, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	Time and time again

Roman ruffles Logan's hair as he follows Patton out of the room, promising to ensure that there'd be enough Crofters for both of them tomorrow. 

Virgil remains lounging on the bed, reading one of Logan's books, and Logan is ridiculously proud of him for taking these small liberties without overthinking it. He levels a small, unnoticed smile at Virgil and turns back to his desk. 

Logan sighs heavily and begins to rework his schedule for the week. All of tomorrow's plans would have to be cancelled in favour of the family outing, which meant two extra hours of work every day until the next Friday-

"You're busy. Why did you say yes?” 

Logan leans back in his chair contemplatively, staring up at the constellations he had assembled as a teenager.

“Because they ask so little of me, only my company and good humour. Because they’re worth the sleepless nights. I cannot say no, because they are my family, and I-” he hesitates, his gaze catching on a corner of the ceiling, a blemish in his otherwise perfect replica of the night sky.

The stars spell I-L-Y. The I is dotted with a crown. Logan hadn’t been amused all those years ago, but now he breaks out into a grin. 

“I love them,” he says tenderly, affection lacing every word. 

Logan hears quiet shuffling and glances over his shoulder. The book has been carefully shut and placed on a pillow. Virgil now sits at the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, legs dangling freely. 

"And me?" he asks, so quiet that Logan might have missed it completely if he hadn't watched Virgil's lips move. 

_ And me?  _ He had said it like he already knew the answer and it wasn't the one he'd wished to hear. 

Virgil fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie as Logan stares, lips parted in bewilderment. Of course, him too. Did he really need to ask? 

Virgil is strong coffee and silent protection. He is adrenaline and arrhythmia; he is achingly familiar and frighteningly alien, all at once. He is a sigh in the silence, a steady bassline, a soaring heart. He is  _ Virgil,  _ with hair that falls over his eyes, with the hoodie that carries his sharp, minty smell, with his gravelly baritone and the dusty eyeshadow under deep amber eyes. 

Logan isn't one for hyperbole but he thinks it impossible to know Virgil and not love him.

"I'm just kidding, L, you-" Virgil begins with a hollow smile that doesn't reach his eyes and Logan realizes that he has been quiet for a beat too long. 

He lurches out of his chair and pulls Virgil to his chest, burying his hand in soft purple hair. 

_ Physical contact helps ground Virgil when he is anxious,  _ Logan reminds himself.  _ I only hope to ease his distress by embracing him,  _ he thinks, wrapping an arm around Virgil's shoulders.

Logan carefully disregards the warm ache in his chest as Virgil tucks his head under Logan's clavicle, and hopes desperately that his erratic pulse wouldn't give his errant emotions away. 

Virgil's arms come up to wrap around his waist as he relaxes into the hug and Logan pretends that his touch doesn't figuratively  _ burn _ . 

His stomach flutters and some vague comment about Roman's cooking crosses his mind but he's barely coherent at the moment. All he can see is Virgil, all he can feel is Virgil, all he can hear is Virgil,  _ Virgilvirgilvirgilvirgil- _

Logan takes a step back before he does something without thinking it through. Virgil pulls away and Logan immediately misses his warmth. 

He sits on the bed next to his friend, barely an inch of space between them. Logan is too weak to escape Virgil's gravity just yet. 

"Virge-" he begins, his voice slightly breathy. Logan clears his throat and collects his thoughts, banishing the dazed fog his brain had slipped into. 

"I sincerely apologize if I've made you feel insignificant," Logan says, firmly pushing on despite Virgil's attempts to refute his statement. "I know I'm still not very good at expressing myself but-"

Logan covers Virgil's hand with his own, feeling sparks racing up his fingertips to his spine. "-you are more important to me than words can adequately convey." 

He hears Virgil's sharp inhale and feels his heart break. He doesn't understand why Virgil can't see how breathtaking, how incredible he is. 

As though from a distant dream, a long-forgotten yet familiar quote drifts into his mind. 

_ Doubt thou the stars are fire; _

_ Doubt that the sun doth move; _

_ Doubt truth to be a liar; _

_ But- _

"-never doubt that I love," Logan whispers, trying to push every hidden emotion, every buried thought into the narrow column of air between his lips and that of the man he- the man he has come to be very fond of, hoping that Virgil would hear the words unsaid, feel the trembling hands and hitching breath, the race of his traitorous heart. 

He wants Virgil to realize that he steals Logan's breath, heart, and thoughts, every time he walks into a room. He is all that Logan can think about these days, in an endless loop that leaves his head spinning and his heart aching. 

He is _in love with_ _Virgil_ , Logan realizes with a slight jolt, careful to internalize the epiphany that he has actively been working to avoid having. 

"And me?" he quotes, bending his head slightly to meet Virgil's eyes. "Yes. Ask me time and time again, the answer will always be yes." 

_ I love you,  _ he confesses in his mind, resisting the urge to close the gap between their lips.  _ So much so that if affection could power a star, I would light up the night sky for millennia. _

"Logan…" Virgil lets out a shaky breath. It ghosts across Logan's cheek and he shivers. Had they been sitting this close to each other all this while? 

Virgil turns his palm upright and laces his fingers with Logan's. The other hand grips his shoulder, loose enough so Logan could break away if he wanted to, but he doesn't. When will Virgil understand that Logan would give him everything, everything, if he so desired? 

Virgil's eyes are warm and wide, his lips are parted, and Logan can feel the heat radiating off him. As the embodiment of the fight-or-flight reflex, Virgil always runs warm. Logan absently wonders how cozy his bed would be with Virgil in it, and whether he would have the willpower to continue waking up at seven on the dot. 

Logan freezes. What did he just think?

_ What are you doing?  _ his mind screams at him when it processes the thought.  _ What are you playing at? This isn’t a joke! He is your friend, and that's all he'll ever be. There's a reason that you don't let yourself go down this path, Logan.  _

Logan feels a rusty dagger twist in his heart. 

Of course. What was he thinking? He gulps as he takes in smooth lips, the freckles under Virgil's eyes, the pale column of his neck, and he forces those observations out of his mind. 

Virgil's eyes are still soft and hooded and Logan is viscerally terrified that if he keeps looking into them, he might end up being more honest than he is prepared to be. He has to say something, do something to fix his near blunder- 

"You're my family," Logan blurts, feeling like he's floundering, feeling like a liar, feeling a stab of pain through his heart as Virgil's eyes shutter, feeling him draw back the hand on Logan's shoulder, feeling too much all at once.

_ He  _ is  _ your family,  _ his mind supplies.  _ But he's also different. You love Roman and Patton like brothers, but you love him like you love the stars. So beautiful, so amazing in just being that you can do nothing but stare- _

_ At something out of your reach. _

"Vee-" 

Virgil's eyes snap to him. Logan doesn't call him that very often, he knows _ , _ but it felt right. It  _ was _ an intimate moment between friends after all, even if it was so much more for Logan. 

He hesitates, his mind racing to fill the silence, to say something that would dissipate the charged tension because who knew what Logan would do if it remained, he is barely thinking straight as is- 

"Dinner's up, nerds!" Roman shouts, banging hard on the door as he passes by on the way to his room. "Patton made chicken parmesan!" 

Logan and Virgil jump apart, the heady silence having inadvertently been broken by Roman. 

"Well… you can't say no to Patton's parmesan," Virgil offers, standing up, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Indeed." Logan returns his shy smile and stands as well. He spies the book on his bed that Virgil had been reading.  _ Alice in Wonderland.  _ His smile broadens. "You can borrow that, by the way." 

_ What's mine is yours,  _ he doesn’t say.

Virgil hums appreciatively and grabs the book. He nods at Logan in thanks and tosses out a comment about needing to stop by his room and that he'd see Logan downstairs. Logan registers it absently, still reeling from what had just transpired. 

It had been so close.  _ They  _ had been so close. 

He had almost said it.

If they had a few more minutes, well… Logan couldn't say with certainty that he wouldn't have accidentally told Virgil everything. How much he wanted to run his fingers through purple hair, to rest his cheek against Virgil's, to kiss the pale expanse of his skin until it turned red, to hold him close on movie nights, to wake up next to him every morning. 

He had almost said it. 

And he had almost irreparably ruined their friendship. He was Logic. He was cold and stiff and aloof. He was facts, not faith; constancy, not comfort; refuge, not home. He was not worthy of Virgil. 

He had almost said it. 

_ Well, _ he thinks, spinning on his heel, heading for the door.  _ I'll just have to ensure that it doesn't happen again. _

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave validation on your way out!


End file.
